


Leonard Snart and the Waddling Scarlet Menace

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Smol Dragon Barry 'verse [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baby dragons - Freeform, Barry is a cute smol button, Dragons, Fluff, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles, Waddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Len came to meet Barry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leonard Snart and the Waddling Scarlet Menace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cardinalstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalstar/gifts), [BlueStar1937](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueStar1937/gifts).



New dragon hatches today, a completely unknown breed too. West himself tended to it, his children assisting him whenever his job as Director called him away. Struck by lightning, everyone says, and the hatchling inside _survived_. Not even Lightning Elements can do that, not while in the shell.

Rumor has it the Ms. West is gonna be the little chick’s handler. She’s been all around the fort, holding that serrated scarlet egg, cooing at its golden webbed sparks until they send glowing currents to her hands. A shoe-in, they say.

Which is good, ‘cause Leonard Snart wants nothing to do with handling ever again. And no, he’s not just _being dramatic_ , thank you Director, thank you sis; he just can’t do it anymore.

The day Barry Allen hatches marks a full week since Mick Rory chose Caitlin Snow to be his rider. Now he and Len, they’d been together from the start of Len’s career. They’d gone so far as to form an empathetic bond; although shallow, it was _theirs_ , and Mick allowed Len to handle other dragons through adolescence with it.

Len was gonna saddle him. Didn’t matter that he could never handle another dragon. He’d thought for sure that Mick wanted the same.

And then—then Caitlin Snow, with her broken bond and fiery exasperation, came into the picture. Len was forced to detach himself from Mick piece by piece.

They’re still best friends. Len knows that after his body’s recovered, he’ll be back to talking with Mick, training with him, teaching Caitlin the ropes when it comes to his more obscure quirks. But where handling’s concerned, Len’s done.

With his mind, he can form countless shallow bonds at once, but Mick’s had been special. Now he’s tossing and turning in his bed, sweating and clawing at his own chest.

He forces himself to rise for lunch. Should eat _something_ , at least. Lisey’ll be worried about him; she’s tried not to touch on their sibling bond too much in the present circumstances, but Len feels it all the same, an itch he can’t scratch until she sees him.

Len’s swallowing bile and a protein bar when cheers erupt from the common field. Casting tired eyes over to the source, he feels his insides twist at the sight of that special dragon egg beginning to crack.

Fuck. His handler’s instincts are already scrounging up that age-old fondness and excitement. Childishly he wishes to be back in his own shell, curled in Lisa’s wings, letting her trill him to sleep until their time came.

A flash of yellow lightning, and then—a baby dragon lifts a tiny jubilant cry to the sun. Everyone cheers all the louder.

“Hi!” Iris calls over the noise with a giant grin, “I’m Iris West!”

“I know!” the hatchling crows, “I love you! You’re my best friend!”

“Awww!” coos the crowd.

Len tosses the rest of his protein bar. He’s nauseous. Watching that hatchling nuzzle Iris, it just—he can’t do this. He’ll allow himself the luxury of throwing in the towel today.

“Would you like me to be your handler then?” Iris asks, all hopeful and bright. Then she jumps and adds, “Of course we have a ton of others that would be wonderful for you. There’s Cisco Ramon, or my brother Wally—”

“Yeah, I know,” says the dragon, “and I’m sure you and everyone else are wonderful as handlers! But, if you please, I would like that one.”

The crowd plummets into silence. Len glances over to see what they’re gawking at—only to stop and realize that it’s _him_.

He sees it on everyone’s faces, knows they’re right: a hatchling like this, gentle and innocent, is a rarity in itself. Leonard Snart is not the kind of handler this one needs; he’s too cold, too strict, and with what happened a mere week ago...it’s not gonna work.

Len tells him so: “I’m not the kind you want, kid. You’re better off with Miss West over there. I’m sure she’ll _spoil_ you with sunshine and rainbows.”

Iris glares at him, though it’s irritatingly soft. The whole fort’s been treating him like he’s made of glass, never mind that he’s handled half their heavy-weights. Fucking annoying.

“But you are!” the hatchling insists. He stands on his hindlegs and starts waddling towards Len, an egg shard grasped in his talons. “I’ve heard a lot of things in my shell, but I always focused on your voice. You sound cold and closed-off, sure, but I know that someone who’s raised so many dragons so well has to have good in them.”

Len swallows as he comes to a stop, holding up his shard.

“I’m Barry Allen,” he says, “would you please be my handler?”

Len flicks his eyes to the stunned crowd, but his periphery is taken entirely by red and gold. The hatchling even has antennae, lightning bolt-shaped with circular bases. His big green eyes, earnest, and his little draconic smile— _fuck_.

“You really don’t want me, Barry,” he murmurs.

“I do,” Barry says, “so you either take this or I’m putting it in your pocket. I _do_ have wings, you know.”

That startles a tiny smile from Len. “You’re gonna bother me until I say yes, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“And if I said I was done handling dragons?” murmurs ripple through the crowd. “What then?”

Barry blinks owlishly. “You’re not, though. I smell a little bit of a broken bond on you, but it doesn’t define your scent.”

Idly, Len wonders just how smart this hatchling is. Does it have to do with his breed, whatever it is?

He berates himself. That question’s not his to solve.

Huffing, he sinks into a crouch and reiterates, “I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“ _Yes_ , you are.”

“ _Barry,_ ” Len warns.

“ _Leonard,_ ” Barry retorts, “I don’t want anyone else.”

“And why is that, I wonder? Tired of playing Care Bears with Iris?” Len’s mouth twists in disdain, “ _Pity_?”

“No!” Barry cries, affronted, “I came out of the shell for you because I don’t want you to be sad!”

Len’s nearly knocked off his heels.

Came out of the...? Not even Lisa did that for him.

Barry waddles another two steps. Once he’s close enough, he tentatively nuzzles Len’s chin. Len hears the shard slip into the inner pocket of his jacket. This is followed by Barry himself climbing up onto his shoulders.

“Mine,” the dragon declares.

Len slowly stands. “You’re persistent kid, I’ll give you that.”

He needs to register as Barry’s handler. Needs to find the hatchling something to eat. Get him measured for a harness. Test his dexterity...

Len’s broken bond whimpers in his chest. Barry curls further against his neck with a soft trill.

He’ll have a nap first.

* * *

Len wakes to the setting sun casting shadows through his quarters and blissful jolts tingling to the tips of his toes.

Barry sleeps on, head under Len’s chin, tiny body safe under his handler’s shirt.

For the first time since Mick separated from him, Len can take a deep breath.

He carefully curls around his new charge and whispers, “Mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
